


you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

by starchilding



Series: revolution in my bed [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, POV Alternating, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starchilding/pseuds/starchilding
Summary: "Play something for me." He tells the man."You don't even know my name." The man says mischievously. "And I don't know yours.""I'm Geralt.""Julian.""Julian," Geralt says, testing the name and how it feels rolling out of his mouth. "You don't look like a Julian."The man throws his head back with a laugh. "Yeah, I don't really look like a Julian don't I? It's my real name though. Call me Jaskier instead."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: revolution in my bed [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621036
Comments: 22
Kudos: 496





	you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO! This is an apology fic tbh because writers block has finally struck me in the ass. Again. I promise to finish my mage!jaskier fic I just haven't found the right juice yet >.<. Please bear with me! I am also quite busy with uni and just a Little Bit Broke at the moment. Please enjoy this fic! 
> 
> This is the first part of a spontaneous Reincarnation!AU fueled by the song "Don't Look Back in Anger" by Oasis. 
> 
> Holes in the story are planned and will be explained thru the future parts of this story. I love u all! Again, constructive criticism is valid. English is not my first language. Feel free to point out inconsistencies and/or grammatical errors. Thank you!! <3

Jaskier was only nine years old when he held his first guitar. He was sitting on their backyard swing, bored out of his mind, when his mother comes out from the backdoor, a giddy look on her face. Jaskier remembers the moment with perfect clarity; how his mother had pulled out the black guitar from behind her back. The sun was shining brightly above them, and the sunlight makes her mother look so happy. Her eyes had glistened with barely masked happiness, with only the slightest bit of nostalgia.

"What's that?" He asked his mother.

She sits on the ground in front of him, cradling the instrument in front of her gently like it was a child. Jaskier's curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he slid from the swing to beside his mother. Slowly, he runs his fingers over the strings.

"It's a guitar." His mother had said. He briefly recalls the stories she used to tell him when he was younger. She had been in a band, he remembers. They had played for over ten years and had toured before they went their separate ways. A year after their separation, she had him. 

"What's a guitar?" He asks his mother. His fingers remain caressing the strings. His mother smiles at him before holding his small hand against hers. Together, they strum the strings.

"It's an instrument," she says. "You strum the strings and they make sounds. When you put together some notes, you make music."

But Jaskier was no longer paying attention. No, his mind is elsewhere. His eyes are transfixed on the strings vibrating against the pads of his fingers. His mother keeps talking, her days of playing and how her bandmates had been the best people she's ever met, but he doesn't care.

Looking back, Jaskier should have known then that he was different, that he was meant for something else. The moment he felt the guitar something snapped inside him. Like a missing puzzle piece finally falling into place. A spark had ignited in his chest, and he felt as though he was floating in a cloud. For a moment, he feels as though he was older than he actually was, and images flash his mind. A tavern, a joyous crowd, the smell of ale, a man wih white hair and his horse beside him, the sunset painting the coastline a vibrant golden hue.

He lifted his gaze to his mother's, and she must have seen something in his eyes because she stops rambling--and you don't stop Sophie Pankratz from rambling. She talks and she talks and you will listen because she won't stop but she must have seen something inside her son's eyes because she stopped, and she's never done that before. 

"Can you teach me how to play it?" He asks. She smiles softly at him before she pats her lap, signaling Jaskier to move and sit on top of it. He scrambles quickly, his bony elbows digging against her ribs and knocking the laughter out of her. She pinches Jaskier cheeks, before returning to the guitar in her hand.

"So, you see, this is how you hold it."

\---

It was only 8 AM when someone shoves Jaskier into the pavement without apologizing and without even a glance back at his direction.

With a huff, he rises to dust his pants off. He glares at the direction of the person who had bumped into him, and he doesn't stop glaring until the figure disappears from view. He turns his guitar over in his hand, checking to see if it has scratches. Satisfied to see that no harm has befallen his precious instrument, Jaskier goes back to strumming it. Then, he starts singing.

Barely anyone pays attention to him. He's standing in the corner of two of the biggest companies in Manhattan: a law firm and an accounting firm. The street he plays in is a very busy street, with people from all walks of life passing through with the common goal of getting to whatever destination they're heading for and ignoring the music he plays from his chair. Occasionally, a little kid would drag their mother to him, and he'd play some of his child friendly songs before the child finally gets bored and Jaskier's alone again.

Beyond just playing his guitar, Jaskier has also gotten into the habit of people-watching. Doing nothing all day and having no actual job has given him all the time he needs to watch people and observe how they live their lives in the busy mornings. He knows that there's a woman from the law firm who buys coffee at the hotdog cart every single day, and that she wears the same shoes every day except for Thursdays, where she trades her heels for the red doll shoes she obviously likes better than those pointed death traps. He knows that there's a couple from the law firm and from the accounting firm who sit on the bench outside the building and share a lunch while talking about, well, Jaskier wouldn't know of course but he'd like to thank that it was something funny because of how the girl laughs every single time.

He knows that there's a man from the law firm who comes down precisely at 8:10 AM, and this man, Jaskier thinks, is the highlight of his day.

This man is out the law firm's door at exactly 8:10 in the morning. Phone in his hand, he leans against the lamppost and talks to someone from the other line. At least, Jaskier thinks it's talking. The man does more grunting and humming than vocalizing actual words. Today, the man is dressed in an all-black suit, and he's pinching his forehead while he's talking to the phone. Jaskier looks away from the man, giving him his privacy. He continues strumming his guitar and smiling at anyone who spares a glance his way.

He was too engrossed with playing that he didn't even notice the man leaning against the lamppost staring back at him. Geralt has long finished his call, but he was still incredibly pissed off and would rather not go back up until his temper is in control. He stares at the man in the corner, his singing and strumming providing Geralt with an easy distraction. The man's voice is good, Geralt thinks. It's always so good.

Before he knows it, he finds himself slowly making his way to the singing man. The man looks up mid-song and catches his eyes. If the man stumbles, he doesn't show it. Instead, he throws a wink at Geralt before turning to the small audience he has garnered in front of him.

The man has stopped singing and was just mindlessly strumming his guitar when he finally makes it there, and his audience has dwindled down to two little kids whose gazes are transfixed on the way the man's fingers seem to fly over the strings. He catches Geralt's eyes again, and he stops, offering Geralt a soft smile.

Geralt doesn't know how long this man has been playing here. He was there when he first came in to work for the firm. He had barely paid any attention to him then, thinking he was just some guy busking around for fun. Except, the man returned every day. Every day he sang in that corner, his case out for coins. Geralt would look at him sometimes, but never approach. This time was different. He needed something to distract him before he explodes.

"Just a moment." The guy says to him before kneeling in front of the children. Geralt sees him hold his guitar out, letting the kids run their hands over the strings as they please. A little while later, the kids run back to their parents. They wave goodbye to the man, and he waves back before looking at Geralt.

The first thing that strikes Geralt is how blue the man's eyes are. He thinks, distantly, of ocean waves and snow. The light hits the man's face just right, just so his eyes would look like they're crystals. And this is weird to Geralt, because he's never been known to be poetic, most of all to a man he barely knows.

"Play something for me." He tells the man.

"You don't even know my name." The man says mischievously. "And I don't know yours."

"I'm Geralt." 

"Julian."

"Julian," Geralt says, testing the name and how it feels rolling out of his mouth. "You don't look like a Julian."

The man throws his head back with a laugh. "Yeah, I don't really look like a Julian don't I? It's my real name though. Call me Jaskier instead."

Jaskier. "Jaskier." He grunts, pleased at how there's finally a proper name to the face.

"You want me to play something?" Jaskier asks him. 

"Yeah."

"Like what?"

"Anything." Geralt sighs. "Something. I don't know. Just play."

Jaskier hums, adjusting the tune of his guitar. "Something wrong?"

"Something like that."

"Huh." He starts strumming his guitar again. "How do you feel about an Oasis song?"

Geralt doesn't answer. Jaskier sings until Geralt leaves. He sings long after that.

\---

"Rent is due tomorrow, by the way." Renfri shouts as she opens the door. Jaskier groans from his spot on the couch. "Just leave your share at the table before you go to--wherever it is that you go."

"I feel like I just paid rent yesterday." He says. Renfri snorts, dropping their groceries on the counter. She rummages through the cabinets, putting things where they belong. Jaskier grabs his guitar from the table, strumming a few notes before letting out a frustrated sigh. 

Renfri pads over to him, a concerned look on her face. "Can you pay? I could always cover for you this month you know. Just pay me back later." She runs her fingers through his hair. Jaskier leans back at her touch. 

"I can. It's just that I have to dig through that inheritance money again." 

Renfri stands up. "I still don't understand why you don't like touching that money."

"It just doesn't feel right."

"It's your money, Jaskier." Renfri tells him with a raised eyebrow. "It has your name written all over it."

"But I didn't earn it." Jaskier tells her, putting the guitar back down on the table. "It just doesn't feel right."

Renfri sits beside him, taking his hand in hers. She runs her smooth fingers over his calloused ones. 

"It's yours now, Jaskier." She tells him. "There's no one left to touch that, you know."

"It still doesn't feel real, Renfri." Jaskier tells her. He's leaning against her shoulder now, his fingers playing with hers. He's picking her nail polish off. Renfri can't find it in her to be angry. "I feel like one day, I'm gonna wake up and she'll be there to take it back from me, and that it's all going to be okay."

Renfri presses a kiss against his hair. She hugs him, one-armed but tight. The TV lights his face, and she knows that if she looks through his eyes she's going to see unshed tears. 

"You're allowed to be happy again, Jaskier." She whispers. "You are allowed to be okay."

They sit in silence for a while, Renfri caressing his arm and Jaskier looking at the TV. Then,

"He talked to me today."

"Who?"

"That guy I keep telling you about."

Renfri lets out a chuckle. "Which one?"

Jaskier sits up, swatting her arm and breaking the moment. "You know full well that I only talk to you about one guy."

"The guy from that firm?"

"Duh. Do I talk to you about anyone else?"

"So, what did he say?" Renfri asks, curious. Jaskier's been talking about the guy for months now. It was always the same thing: he'd go down at exactly 8:10 AM. Sometimes he'd sit on one of the benches, drinking coffee or eating breakfast. Sometimes he'd be on his phone. Jaskier mentions the guy more often than he wants to admit, and Renfri is loath to agree that she also knows more about the guy than she would like to admit.

"He asked me to play something for him Renfri." He laughs. "And I know his name now. It's Geralt."

Renfri suddenly frowns. Geralt. The name strikes a chord inside her. She raises her hand on her neck, suddenly feeling the pinpricks of pain. She closes her eyes.

"And he just s--hey. Renfri? Are you still listening?" Jaskier asks. His hands hover over her shaking figure. He debates on whether or not he should touch her. "Is something wrong?"

A groan slips from her mouth as she lifts her gaze to stare at him, and for a while he sees a wild panic raging inside her brown eyes. She abruptly stands, and Jaskier's arm hovers awkwardly above the space she used to sit in.

"I just remembered something. Call me when it's dinnertime."

She leaves, and Jaskier's alone with his thoughts again. He debates on picking up his guitar to play a few songs, but he goes against it to prepare for dinner. As he slices the tomatoes, he can't help but think of Renfri's eyes and how she looked so far away. He files this thought for another day, attributing it to one of Renfri’s many oddities. 

But he just can’t help but remember how she looked like she was somewhere else, right as he mentioned Geralt's name.

\---

The next morning, 

"Geralt!" Jaskier says with a smile.

"Jaskier." 

He strums his guitar. 

\---

"Good morning, Geralt."

No answer this time. He strums his guitar and plays a little tune for the little kids watching him play. All the while, Geralt stands near him. It's been three weeks since they first talked to each other. Coffee cup in his hand, his eyes staring at Jaskier’s singing form.

\---

"Hey, why does your hair have a white streak on it?" Jaskier asks Geralt right after a rousing performance. Unlike most of their meetings, it's already 7:30 PM, with Geralt having rushed back inside after his regular morning break.

"Was born with it." Geralt tells him. Jaskier just shrugs, fighting the urge to run his hands through them. He packs his guitar back in the case instead. 

\---

"Play me something."

Jaskier stops his strumming. He thinks back to their first conversation. That was six weeks ago now. "What song would you like?" He asks Geralt.

"Surprise me."

The sunlight hits Geralt's eyes just right and for a moment, Jaskier thinks he sees them sparkle like gold.

\---

Their daily, mini interactions go on for three more months before Geralt finally finds the guts to ask Jaskier out for lunch.

Jaskier doesn't recall anymore exactly what happened before lunch. He remembers singing, and then Geralt coming down again at exactly 8:10 in the morning. Geralt sits beside him silently, before telling him to pack up at 1:00 so they can eat together. Jaskier had just nodded, and once Geralt was sure that Jaskier wouldn't bolt, he nods as well and then makes his way back to the firm.

Now, they're sitting side by side on a bench that's suddenly too small for the both of them, and Jaskier's clutching the sandwich in his hand a little bit too hard because he's sitting beside Geralt, and how many months had he dreamed about a moment like this? 

"Don't be tense." Geralt grunts. He looks down at his sandwich and realizes that the sauce has fallen over the side because of how hard he's been squeezing it. "If you'd rather eat alone you could've just said no."

"No!" Jaskier says before stammering. "I mean-not no as in ‘no I don't want to be here’ I mean-- are you laughing?"

Geralt's shoulders shake before he lets out a snort. Jaskier slaps his arm. "Are you fucking with me?" He asks Geralt.

"I'm not."

"You are! I hate you." Jaskier grumbles before taking a bite out of his food. "I didn't agree to this just so I can be made fun of you know."

"So why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you agree?" Geralt asks before sipping his coffee. A boy runs in front of them, laughing loudly. It's a beautiful day, Jaskier thinks. A perfect day for a lunch. For a date, even. He hopes that a date is what this was.

"Because, my dear Geralt, I am hungry and you promised lunch."

Geralt hums. He seems to be fond of doing that, and it irritates Jaskier to no end. 

"I didn't promise you lunch. I asked if you wanted to eat together. How was I to know that you don't have your own bloody food."

Jaskier laughs. "You should know by now that I don't bring food Geralt. I only ever have my guitar with me."

They sit in silence for a while, eating their food and watching the people go about with their lives. Occasionally, Jaskier would steal a glance at Geralt, memorizing his features. They had never been this close before, with little to no more space between them. He notes Geralt's stubble, his eyelashes, and then his fingers. 

Geralt tilts his head, catching Jaskier staring at him. Instantly, Jaskier blushes and he turns away.

Except.

Geralt reaches over and with his finger turns Jaskier's head back to him. He stares at Jaskier intensely, and Jaskier can do nothing but stare back at him. The world fades in the background, and all there is is Jaskier and Geralt. 

And then, throwing Jaskier completely off track, Geralt lets out a wide smile. 

Jaskier's heart flutters wildly against his chest. His stomach turns over, and for a moment he thinks that there must be something inside of him that's gripping his lungs and his heart so tightly that he can't move, he can't even breathe and he thinks, Geralt. Of course. There was Geralt and nothing else. The feeling is Geralt, the warmth is his eyes, and the way he smiles is home to Jaskier.

That face completely disarms Jaskier, and all he could do was smile back. The sun was high in the sky, and everything was in place in the world.

\---

Contrary to everyone's beliefs, Jaskier doesn't always stay in that corner he sings in. Well, he does sing there every day, but when the day is slow and there's no one around, Jaskier packs his guitar and heads to the little coffee shop around the corner--The Split Bean, which is, to his utter gratefulness, the place where Renfri works. On the occasion that he's bored, he heads on to the coffee shop to piss Renfri off up until she kicks him out because he's beginning to interfere with work.

The day is good, Jaskier thinks, and the sun is shining high in the sky. But it was also a very boring day, and Geralt only had a few minutes to spare for him earlier in the morning. He had left in a hurry, muttering about a contract he had to finish before the afternoon deadline. Jaskier had only waved him off before he went back to his singing. An hour after that, he's standing in The Split Bean, trying to figure out what to order.

"A venti cappuccino, please." Jaskier decides. He says this while digging through his bag for his wallet. 

"And can I have your name sir?" The cashier asks. Jaskier. He doesn't answer, way too busy rummaging over his little pack. Shit, he thinks, and he's got a feeling that he might not be taking coffee today after all. 

Unless, "Is Renfri there? You think she can pay for my coffee instead?" He asks the barista. 

The barista, Marge, who has seen Jaskier a couple of times in the store, grimaces. "Yeah she didn't tell you? She's off today."

Shit, right. She had to go home to visit her parents. He was supposed to go with her and accompany her because lord knows how much Renfri hates the family visits she's forced to go to, but he has matters to attend to and a performance at a birthday party this week, and he just couldn't go with her. 

He was just about to step off the line and cancel his order when a hand grabs his elbow. He turns, mouth ready to berate the person who had grabbed him without permission when the person speaks.

"Calm down, bardling." Geralt says with a small smile. Jaskier's heart flutters against his chest, and he wills it to calm down before he turns to smile at Geralt. Geralt just nods at him, telling him to look for a table for the two of them before telling Marge that he's paying for Jaskier's order as well. 

Jaskier walks away, his legs feeling strangely weak, and finds a table outside the shop. He sits down, looking at Geralt's back through the glass doors. He manages a small wave when Geralt finally turns around, standing in the next line to claim their coffees. Then, he closes his eyes and feels the sunshine against his face. From the distance, he can hear buses and cars rushing through the morning traffic, and he thinks that if he focuses on those sounds enough then he'd be able to stop hearing how his heart is beating loudly against his chest.

_He called me bardling_ , he thinks. _Now why does that seem so familiar._

He opens his eyes to the scrape of the chair in front of him. Geralt sits in front of him, handing him his coffee as an offering. Jaskier takes it from his hands, his mind trying to ignore how their fingers brush against each other. He mutters a small thanks before sipping his coffee.

Jaskier lets out a little moan. The coffee begins to warm up his throat, and soon enough he feels warm all over. Too focused on his coffee, he misses the way Geralt is looking at him softly. Jaskier grins against his coffee, his smile making Geralt feel something that he's never felt before. Something he's only ever felt when he's around Jaskier.

"Lost your wallet or something?" Geralt breaks the silence. Jaskier groans before thumping his head lightly against the table. 

"Left it at home." Jaskier mumbles. Geralt couldn't help the snort that comes out of his mouth.

"No laughing! It was mortifying standing there looking for my wallet while a line forms behind me."

"Common sense would dictate that you never leave your house without checking if you have everything with you." Geralt tells him. "Common sense would also dictate that you shouldn't buy anything before checking if you have any money with you."

Jaskier just stares at him with an odd look on his face. The silence stretches on for a few seconds before Jaskier breaks out in to a smile.

"What?" He grunts. 

Jaskier smiles coyly. "That's the longest sentence you've ever said to me, you know." 

Jaskier would swear right there that Geralt was blushing, but Geralt would deny it indefinitely. A trick of the light, he'd say, or that Jaskier was hallucinating.

"Anyway," Jaskier begins, "I didn't notice that I grabbed the wrong pair of pants this morning, and I was in such a hurry that I didn't notice until now that my wallet wasn't with me."

"How did you get here then?"

"I walk."

"With the guitar?" Geralt looks at him dubiously. 

Jaskier swats Geralt's hand. "Yes, with the guitar. It's not that heavy you know."

Geralt leans back to take a good look at Jaskier. "You're tiny." He tells him.

Jaskier sputters, his face going red from humiliation. Geralt chuckles, delighting in Jaskier's speechlessness.

"I'll have you know," Jaskier tells him, "that I have been playing the guitar since I was a little boy, and you know very well that I carry this guitar everyday while standing and singing in that corner for hours, if you don't recall. And---you're making fun of me aren't you."

Geralt is laughing, full blown and actually laughing, Jaskier thinks, and he also thinks that it might be the best thing he's seen in days. 

"You always do this," he tells Geralt with a soft smile on his face. "One might think that you're doing it just to get a rise out of me."

“And if I am?”

“Then I am fine with it,” Jaskier tells him cheekily.

Geralt stops laughing, but there's no denying that his eyes are still glistening with joy. He looks at Jaskier, and he's trying to fight back a smile but he can't help it. He's only ever like this with Jaskier--the feeling in his chest is only ever like this with Jaskier. There's just something about him that he can't even begin to explain. 

Slowly, he leans forward and then reaches his hand out and settles it above Jaskier's. He traces patterns against Jaskier's palm. His eyes remain locked with Jaskier's, and he thinks he could get used to this. 

\--

Geralt's stomach grumbles as he packs his suitcase and prepares to leave for the night. He had been so busy with the inheritance case he had been representing that he had skipped both breakfast and lunch. His only break for that day had been when he went down to take a call and say hello to Jaskier, who had only waved back when he motioned that he was returning to his office right away.

"Going home for the night?" A voice from the doorway asks him. He looks up to see Yennefer smiling at him, her hands crossed over her chest as she looks at his suitcase. "Busy day, huh?"

Geralt sighs. "Yeah, they're dragging this inheritance case longer than they should." He grunts. Satisfied that he hasn't missed anything, he steps away from his table and grabs his jacket from behind the couch. He turns the light off and walks towards the elevators, Yennefer standing beside him. They nod at the night guard on their way out. Once inside the elevator, Geralt leans his head and closes his eyes. His stomach makes another sound.

“You eat anything today or did you just stay in your office the entire time?” Yen asks him with a smile.

“Had a bagel.”

Yen tuts. “That’s no meal, Geralt.”

“I haven’t really found the time today.” He mumbles, feeling very much like a child being scolded by his mother. Yen sighs. “Hey, I wanted to finish this before I left for the day.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t find the time to eat.”

“Says the woman who once went two days living off the crackers and the coffee in the breakroom.”

“I won that case,” Yen says with a snarl, “and I had meals in between, you just didn’t see it.”

Geralt smiles, relishing in their banter. This is why Yennefer is the only friend he has in the building. She can keep up with him. “Whatever you say.”

“You got any plans tonight? Other than eating, of course.”

Geralt’s mind instantly supplies an image of Jaskier, and he smiles softly at the thought of the man waiting for him at the bench outside. Ever since their accidental meeting at The Split Bean three weeks ago, Jaskier has taken to waiting for Geralt to leave the firm every night at the bench in front of the doors. He’d wave and they’d talk and if Geralt is lucky then Jaskier would allow his company up until they reach the bus where, at Geralt’s insistence—he had found out that Jaskier also walks home at night and it unsettled him, Jaskier would ride back home.

Yen, as if reading his mind, had simply smiled at him. “You got a date, don’t you?”

“I haven’t actually asked him out yet.” He tells her.

Yen raises her eyebrow. “Does he have a name?”

“Julian. He prefers Jaskier though.”

Yennefer’s smile drops a little, and her mind focuses on the name Geralt has given her. If Geralt notices the sudden lull in the conversation, it’s either he doesn’t really mind or he doesn’t care.

“Jaskier, you say.” The name sounds familiar in her tongue. “Odd name. Doesn’t it mean dandelion?” She asks him.

“It does?”

“Yeah, in Polish, I think.”

“Interesting.”

The elevator reaches the ground floor. “This is me. See you tomorrow, Yen. Have a good night.” He says, giving her a little wave. Outside, he can see Jaskier waiting for him. Guitar case slung across his back. He does not see Yennefer’s face, and he is not aware of the emotions inside of her, as she receives flashes of snow and lilacs and gooseberries. The elevator closes in front of her face.

“Jaskier, huh. An odd name, indeed.” She whispers to herself.

Outside, Jaskier greets Geralt with a soft smile on his face. He waves him over, handing him a steaming cup of coffee. Geralt takes it graciously, blowing at the top before taking a sip.

“A cold night, isn’t it?” Jaskier tells him. He looks at his watch and notes that it’s already nine in the evening.  _Renfri should be home by now_ ,  he thinks.

“Do you want to grab a bite?” Geralt mumbles, way too low for Jaskier to hear. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said,” Geralt sighs. His hand reaches behind his neck, trying to find the strength to ask Jaskier out. “Would you like to grab a bite with me? I know this great diner a couple of blocks down and,”

“Yes.”

“and they’re really good. The food is good, I mean,”

“Geralt, I already said—"

“But we can also try and find another place if you end up not liking it th—”

“Geralt!” Jaskier startles him with a laugh. He finally looks up and meets Jaskier’s eyes, full of barely disguised laughter. “I already said yes, you oaf. Let me just text Renfri and then we can go.”

Geralt grunts, his face going red from embarrassment. “You know, I seem to ramble a lot around you.” He tells Jaskier. “Somehow, I always got something to say when it comes to you.”

Jaskier laughs again, his arm looping against Geralt’s. Their hands swing between them as they walk. “Maybe it’s just my magic.” He tells Geralt with a soft smile. “Maybe you just can’t help but talk to me.”

“Maybe so.” Geralt tells him.

They reach the diner while talking about the inheritance case that Geralt was working on. Delilah’s was a small diner that Geralt has been visiting ever since he was 16 years old and getting kicked out of school for roughhousing. The owner, a lovely woman named Marie, had taken one look at him when he was 16 and decided that she was going to keep him out of trouble for good. She had fed him, given him food out of her own pocket before sending him back home. When he was 17, he paid Marie back by helping around—washing the dishes, fixing the sink’s plumbing, and being Marie’s food tester. When he was 29, he had given Marie and her granddaughter Lucia, who was now running Delilah’s, the money they had needed for renovations.

Jaskier marvels at the lovely diner in front of him. It looked incredibly out of place, surrounded by the high-rise buildings of the city, but at the same time it looked like it fits just right. An escape, he thinks, from the bustling city life. A perfect place to unwind. The bricks that make up the walls of the diner were rustic in style, and there are fairy lights strewn all over them. There are only a few people inside, and Jaskier fears that the diner must have been closing before Geralt slightly pushes him towards the door.

They were greeted at the door by a short woman, probably younger than them. She looked frazzled, dressed in white polo and black slacks with an apron over it. She was holding a pitcher of water in her hand when her eyes fall upon Geralt’s figure.

“Geralt!” The woman exclaims. She pours water on the customer’s glass before making her way over to them. She hugs Geralt, and to Jaskier’s surprise Geralt hugs her back with a lot of warmth in his face.

_He must come here a lot,_ he thinks to himself.  _ He seems to know this place by heart.  _

“Lucia, this is Jaskier.” Geralt introduces him. Lucia looks over and gives him a huge smile. “Jaskier, this is Lucia. She runs this place along with Nana Marie. Nana doesn’t come here anymore, though, so you can’t see her tonight.”

Jaskier offers his hand to Lucia, his eyes still glistening with wonder. Lucia directs them at a table near the back, far from the other patrons. 

“Now, I know you always order the usual here, so I am not even gonna ask anymore,” she tells Geralt before turning to Jaskier, “but you sir are new, and I want you to take your time with the menu. Ask Geralt whatever question you have.” She pats Geralt in the head softly before looking back at him. “Lord knows he knows more about this diner than I do sometimes.”

Jaskier thanks her before running his eyes over the menu. “Oh wow, they have pierogi Geralt. Pierogi! I love pierogi.”

“Oh, and they have fruit shakes too! Geralt these all look so good I almost wish we hadn’t drunk coffee on the way here.”

“They have apple crumble pie Geralt!”

All the while, Geralt is looking at Jaskier, his eyes studying every expression that crosses the man’s face. He had been nervous on the way, not knowing whether Jaskier would like the diner or not. Delilah’s was important to him. He had celebrated a lot of his milestones here, and he holds Marie and Lucia close to him like family. He doesn’t know what he would have done had Jaskier not liked the place.

“Is there something on my face, Geralt?” Jaskier says, breaking him out of his stupor. Jaskier is looking at him, looking a little bit worried. His eyes, illuminated by the glow of the diner’s soft lights, gleam with concern.

“Nothing, just.” He takes a deep breath. “You like it here?”

Jaskier laughs. “I love it, Geralt. Thank you for taking me here.”

Geralt smiles at him before taking his hand across the table. Lucia comes back and takes their order: Geralt’s usual steak and a plate of pierogi for Jaskier. She leaves, and Geralt is still holding Jaskier’s hand.

“I used to come here all the time when I was younger.” Geralt tells Jaskier.

“You do seem familiar with the place.”

Geralt nods. “My full name is Geralt Ezekiel Rivia. When I was 16, I got kicked out of school because I punched somebody. I had been walking around when Nana Marie, Lucia’s grandma, saw me stalking around the diner, punching the fucking lamppost outside.”

Jaskier laughs, and he squeezes Geralt’s hand tighter. “Go on.”

“Lucia was just 8 years old then. They must have thought I was crazy, you know. You see this gangly kid punching a lamppost outside your store, and what does Nana Marie do? She takes me in and gives me food. Other people would have called the cops on my ass.”

Jaskier laughs once again. “Well, I’m glad she didn’t call the cops.”

Geralt looks at him softly. His hands continue to trace patterns against Jaskier’s. 

“Yeah, I’m glad too.”

Lucia comes back with their food, berating Geralt for not eating after she overhears their conversation about Geralt’s case. She offers them wine, and they both thank her before she leaves them to tend to other tables.

“This place was all I had, growing up.” Geralt tells Jaskier after taking a sip from his wine. 

“Why do you say so?” Jaskier asks with nothing but curiosity.

“My parents were busy people.” Geralt shrugs. “They didn’t have time for each other, and they certainly did not have time for a kid they didn’t even want.”

Jaskier gasps, taking Geralt’s hand and holding it against his. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

Geralt smiles at him, eyes just a little bit sad. “It’s fine now. I was simply an unexpected kid. A child surprise, if you will." He had grown up resenting his parents. He hadn’t cried when his father died. He was 19 and angry and confused, and he didn’t know how to mourn a man he could barely call his father. He’s detached from his mother, and they haven’t talked in years. He has a sister, but even they don’t know each other much. He’s never had a good relationship with his family, and he tells Jaskier exactly all this.

“Oh, that’s, that’s sort of sad.” Jaskier tells him with a frown. “But you’re okay now, right? Jaskier tells him, his voice laced with resolve. His hand tightens its hold on Geralt’s, and Geralt’s heart flutters wildly again. 

“You’re okay now. You have me.” 

Geralt’s smile is brighter than the lights framing his face, and Jaskier thinks he’d never hurt this man; never let him feel lonely ever again. Not if he can help it.

Geralt pays for the food, much to Lucia’s annoyance. “I told you, you eat here for free. Jaskier too, because he loved the pierogi so much.”

“It was very good pierogi” Jaskier nods. 

“Come on, you know I hate not paying.”

Lucia swats the bills away. “And you know we hate it when you pay.”

Geralt grumbles. “Fine,” before putting the money back in his pocket.

Lucia smiles brightly at him before turning to Jaskier. He holds his hand out for her to shake and to his surprise, she pulls him in for a hug instead. 

“Take care of Geralt, will you?” She whispers against his ear. 

Jaskier simply nods before turning back to Geralt. Lucia, satisfied, goes back to the kitchen. Geralt, once sure that Lucia isn’t coming back out any time soon, digs his hand back into his pockets.

“What are you doing?” Jaskier asks him. He takes the wad of bills from his pocket and drops it on the tip box. 

“I am not leaving here without paying them.” Geralt tells him. He drags Jaskier away once he finishes dropping the final dollar, careful and hasty to ensure that Lucia won’t catch him. All along, Jaskier is laughing. He laughs too, glad that Jaskier is finding humor in the situation.

They huddle against each other, walking side by side, trying to leech warmth off the other. Jaskier takes Geralt’s hand in his, and they walk around for a while.

“My full name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.” Jaskier breaks the silence after a while. 

“Pankratz?” Geralt asks him. “You related to Sophie Pankratz?”

“I’m her son, actually.” He tells Geralt with a smile. “Sophie and Johnny Pankratz married on a sunny afternoon in December. They had me and only me. Gave me the nickname Jaskier after the field of dandelions growing near our farm. No siblings. Born and raised in the country, but I left the moment I could.”

Geralt tightens his hold on Jaskier’s hand. “My mother used to have Sophie Pankratz’s records. Played them every afternoon, when she had the time.”

“Yeah. Mom was pretty popular for a while. That’s why they settled in the country. She wanted to give me a normal life.” 

They stop in front of an empty playground, and Jaskier lets go of Geralt’s hand in favor of sitting on the swing. He settles his guitar case gently against the ground before looking at Geralt pleadingly. He pouts a little, “push me?” He asks Geralt. Geralt sighs before heading over behind Jaskier. He swings him lightly, delighting in the tiny laughs slipping out of Jaskier’s mouth.

“My mom wanted me to become a Doctor.” He tells Geralt. “I didn’t wanna be one, you know. I wanted to do music.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I had told her, and I think I broke her heart. Can you imagine,” he says sadly, “a musician mother doesn’t want her son to become a musician. And she had taught me to play the guitar too.”

Geralt hums, still swinging Jaskier. The moon shines brightly above them, as does the lamps illuminating the streets. 

“I left home when I was 23. Two years after my dad died. Didn’t look back since.” He chuckles sadly. His hands grip Geralt’s, who is still swinging Jaskier along. “She died a year ago. I wasn’t even there when she did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Look at us, bonding over our childhoods in one night.” He looks at Geralt. Geralt stops swinging him to sit on the ground in front of him. He takes Jaskier’s hands in his, and he raises them against his lips to kiss them.

“I’m over it now, you know. Or at least I like to think I am. She left me everything, can you imagine that? Sophie Pankratz, leaving her ungrateful son everything that she had.”

“You weren’t ungrateful, Jaskier.” Jaskier can feel Geralt’s lips moving against his fingers.

“But I was, Geralt.” He tells him. “I was, and I still wish I was there to hold her when she left.”

Geralt says nothing, knowing his words will provide no comfort to Jaskier. Instead, he looks at Jaskier’s eyes, and then he holds Jaskier’s hands tighter. The night continues on, and only the moon is witness to their moment.

\--

“Look, I don’t understand why you’re mad, okay?” Lambert tells him while they’re walking down the hallway towards Vesemir’s office. “I did exactly what you told me to do.”

“You didn’t file the patent, you fucking idiot.” He snarls before he enters Vesemir’s office. “Now I have to do it all over again.” 

“But you said—”

“I told you to file the patent, and you didn’t, so now we’re stuck in this mess. Fix it, before I kick you in the gut. If I lose this client, I will kill you myself." He closes the door on Lambert’s face.

Vesemir doesn’t even look up anymore, quite used already to Geralt’s many outbursts. Instead, he finishes signing the papers in front of him. Geralt takes a seat in front of him, his eyes closed in frustration. A headache begins to work its way on his temples, and he groans at the fact that he’s gonna have to get through the day like this.

“What did Lambert do this time?” Vesemir breaks the silence.

“Didn’t file the patent.”

“What patent?”

“The one from that tech mogul.”

“That patent?” Vesemir looks at him, raising his eyebrow. “And why, pray tell, is Lambert in charge of patent?”

Geralt sighs. “I still have that inheritance case to work on, and Lambert was the only idiot available to patent.”

Vesemir puts his pen down, looking Geralt up and down. “You know what I think, Geralt? I think you are working too hard.”

“I’m not working hard enough if shit like this still happens.”

Vesemir laughs. “You and Lambert are only men, my boy. Human men. You are not immune to making mistakes, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that you are invincible.”

Geralt stands up to peer over Vesemir’s window. Their office stands on the 44 th floor of their building, and they easily have one of the best views of the Manhattan skyline. He looks at the city, and then he looks back at Vesemir. “So, what are you saying?” He asks Vesemir.

“You know I consider you my son, Geralt.” Vesemir says, standing behind him. “I have no children, and you know full well that all this,” he gestures to the office, “will be yours someday.”

“But I can’t very well give this to a dead man now, can I?” He tells Geralt. 

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is you need time for yourself too, Geralt. Take a break, every now and then. If you're beginning to snap at Lambert who, might I add, is one of the four people you talk to in this firm then maybe you need to take a long break."

“But—”

“No buts. I don’t want to see your ass back here tomorrow, or the next week, or the next two weeks after that. Hand over that inheritance case to me, and I will take care of it.”

Geralt sputters, his face going red. “And what do you think am I going to do with three weeks off?”

Vesemir sighs, sitting back down to his chair again. He swivels around, looking Geralt dead in the eye.

“I don’t know, son. Go on a road trip, go to Paris, heck, just stay at home. I don’t know. Maybe you can ask that singer downstairs.”

Geralt’s mind short circuits. “Jaskier?” He asks in an unusually high-pitched voice. “How do you know about Jaskier?”

“Yennefer told me.”

“You and Yennefer gossip like old crones.” He tells Vesemir with a snip in his voice.

Vesemir laughs at him. “I better see that inheritance file on my desk ASAP, Geralt.” He says, a clear sign of dismissal. Geralt glares at him before he leaves.  _ See if I get you a souvenir, bastard.  _ Vesemir, as if feeling Geralt’s thoughts, laughs. Geralt closes the door behind him.

“Excuse me, you want me to what?” Jaskier tells him later, mumbling around a mouthful of pretzels. “A road trip?”

Geralt sighs, his arm tightening its hold on Jaskier’s shoulder. He takes a sip of his coffee before continuing. “Vesemir, my boss, has forcefully put me on a paid leave. Said I needed to go out more.”

“Why?”

Geralt is silent.

“What did you do this time, Geralt?” Jaskier asks him with a frown.

“I might have yelled at Lambert,” he tells Jaskier bashfully. Jaskier gasps, raising his head to look at him. 

“Why? Lambert is a sweetheart, Geralt. He listens to me sometimes.”

“He’s shit at instructions though,” he grumbles, feeling chastised by Jaskier. “I told him to file a patent and he didn’t.”

“Maybe he forgot.”

“He shouldn’t forget. That was a very important patent and we had almost lost the client because of his fuck-up.”

Jaskier laughs. “Well at least you’ve fixed it. Now tell me about this road trip and what I should bring.”

Geralt spills his coffee. “Shit, shit, hot.” He hisses.

Jaskier jumps off him, fussing over and carefully wiping his slacks. “Be careful, Geralt that’s hot coffee you know.” But once the initial pain has passed, Geralt isn’t paying attention anymore.

“You’ll go with me?” He asks Jaskier with a smile on his voice.

“Of course, I will, you dummy.” Jaskier tells him. “Besides, I think I need a break too. I always wanted to see the coast you know.”

“You know, I actually haven’t told you where we’re going yet. What makes you think we’re going to the coast?”

“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier tells him in a voice that makes Geralt feel like he’s a child, “we are going to the coast, whether you like it or not.”

\--

"Did you pack your sunscreen?"

"Yes."

"And that white shirt that looks really good on you?"

"Yep, I did."

"And do you have enough cash with you?"

"You were with me to withdraw money at the bank yesterday."

Renfri sighs. She hugs Jaskier from behind. "This is the first time we're going to be apart for a very long time. I'll miss you."

"I am gonna come back you know." He rolls his eyes. He turns around and hugs Renfri tight. "And then you're gonna wish that I'm gone again when I'm here."

Renfri laughs loudly. "Maybe you're right. I'm just nervous, you know. I don't even know who this Geralt person is."

"You've met him, Renfri."

"Yeah, once, while I was working. That wasn't enough interaction."

"And you'll get to know more of him and intimidate him--which I know you really wanna do by the way, don't lie--when we get back and right now I really need to go and meet him downstairs."

Renfri sighs. She gives Jaskier another hug before leading him towards the door. She still doesn't entirely trust Geralt. She still feels wrong about him, but her inability to explain why is the what prevents her from telling Jaskier this. 

At the end of the day, Jaskier's happiness comes first, and she's not going to get in the way of that.

"You take good care, okay? Have fun." She tells him once they're outside. She spots Geralt's car parked near the curb, and she gives him a little wave when she spots him inside. She can be civil for Jaskier.

"Bye, bye, Effi! I'll call you!" Jaskier waves. He climbs Geralt's car and Geralt honks his horn once before taking off. Renfri doesn't come back inside until Geralt's car disappears fully into the streets below.

\--

"Geralt I absolutely love it here and can I just say," Jaskier licks his ice cream. "That I was absolutely right when I said that the coast is the best idea ever."

Geralt looks at him with a smile, their hands holding each other and swinging between the two of them. The beach is packed today, Geralt notes. There are kids running everywhere, mothers screaming for their children to slow down. There are beer cans being passed around, and a little bit ahead of them are a group of teenagers playing beach volley.

It wasn't exactly the peaceful vacation that Geralt was thinking of when he agreed on going to the coast with Jaskier, but he didn't mind as long as it kept the smile on Jaskier's face.

They walk towards their rented villa, and once they enter Jaskier flops onto the bed while Geralt grunts over the sand they're spreading around.

"So what's in our itinerary for today?" Jaskier asks Geralt, who was busy kicking off the sand outside their door. "We got three weeks here so what are we going to do?"

Geralt looks over to Jaskier, a vision in white who is smiling lazily at him. The smile completely lowers Geralt's defenses, and he finds himself closing the door shut and stalking quickly towards Jaskier just so he can pull him closer to him.

"Hello, Geralt what are y--" Jaskier is cut off by lips pressing against his. 

Geralt shifts against Jaskier until his body completely covers the other man's. He takes Jaskier's face against his palms, holding him gently and tenderly. Jaskier kisses him back, pulling Geralt closer to him until he cannot even tell where he begins and where Geralt ends.

They sink further into the sheets, rocking against each other. Soon enough, Jaskier begins to moan as Geralt's hand begins to wander around his body.

"You know, we still have things to see and things to do, right?" Jaskier says breathily as Geralt mouths against his neck. He moans just as Geralt nips a spot right underneath his ear. 

"We have all the time in the world, Jaskier." Geralt grunts against his throat, the vibration sending shivers against Jaskier's body. Geralt positions himself directly above Jaskier, his hand pushing the hair off of Jaskier's forehead. He traces his eyes, and then his nose, before he places his thumb against Jaskier's lips. In a fit of boldness, Jaskier places his tongue against the pad of Geralt's thumb. Geralt leans down to kiss him again.

They don't leave the bed until the sun is finally beginning to set in the horizon.

\--

"You go ahead, Geralt." Jaskier says from the bathroom. He's busy inspecting the hickeys Geralt left around his neck and collarbones. He blushes when he spots one just below his chin, a mark he's sure that no turtleneck can cover.

"Are you sure?" Geralt asks. He hears the keys being lifted from their bedside table. "I'm fine with waiting, you know."

Jaskier, still looking and blushing at his semi-naked body on the mirror, doesn't notice the door to the bathroom opening. Geralt steps in, hugging Jaskier from behind and pressing soft kisses against his nape.

"Yeah, you can go on ahead." Jaskier says in a breathy voice. "I don't want to run out of seats."

Geralt hums, pressing one final kiss against Jaskier's nape before pulling him in for a full-mouthed kiss. "Don't take too long. You know I hate being around strangers."

Jaskier laughs and swats Geralt's arm as he leaves. "It's a two minute walk Geralt, I'll be there before you know it." He says cheekily. He waits until Geralt has closed the door before he actually sets towards fixing himself. Once done, and it actually takes him longer than normal, he picks out the loose white shirt that Renfri said he looks good in. The hickeys were stark against his neck, and anyone with eyes and who can put two and two together would know immediately what he'd have done to be getting those marks on his neck. With a sigh and a final look, he leaves, locking the door behind him with his own key.

\--

Jaskier takes fast steps towards the crowd. Though he no longer cares at all that he's bumping into people, he still mutters small apologies every now and then. His feet are starting to hurt, and he thinks that maybe he really should have just agreed when Geralt said he could wait for him. The gathering was in fact not a two minute walk, and instead it was a ten minute walk and is not even on the beach itself. Rather, it was on the open area of the resort. He takes a sharp left, finally arriving at the table area where he's supposed to have been in 5 minutes ago. A soft curse makes it's way out of hislips, and Jaskier, out of breath and sweating too much, squats and places his hands on top of his knees. He closes his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

“You’re late.” A voice above him says. Jaskier jumps as he hears the voice, and he looks up to see Geralt, eyebrow raised and lips smiling smugly at him.

"I'm right on time, thank you very much." He says, still panting.

"You are 5 minutes late."

"I'm already here, can we just," he says, still unable to be coherent. "Get on with it? What are we doing tonight?" He smiles brilliantly at Geralt. Belatedly, he notices the band playing music in the corner.

"You mentioned before that you wanted to dance."

"Uhm, yeah. I'm surprised you remember that." Jaskier says, finally standing up and hugging Geralt. 

Geralt presses a kiss against his forehead. "Of course I remember. I remember everything you say."

Jaskier blushes at Geralt's words, deciding to let it slide instead of commenting. He buries his face against Geralt's chest, inhaling his scent. Firewood and pine. Just like he always smells.

They stand there, swaying lightly against the music. They watch the couples in front of them dance underneath the stars and against the soft beat of the band. 

Jaskier loves the atmosphere. He has always loved the feeling of love. His mother had once told him, when he was younger, that he loved too much. That he romanticized the idea of love too much when it wasn't at all the pretty thing he thinks it is. He realizes, now, that his mother had been wrong. Love is exactly the pretty thing he thought it was, and unexpectedly and unexplainably, Geralt is standing beside him proving it.

Blinking back to the present, Jaskier sees Geralt holding up his hand.

"Would you like to dance?" Geralt asks him softly. 

Jaskier smiles and takes Geralt's hand on his, allowing Geralt to lead him to the dance floor. His head snaps up when he finally hears the music. He throws his head back in a laugh as Geralt's large hand grips his waist.

"It's the song I first played for you!" Jaskier tells him with a laugh. "The Oasis song!"

Geralt laughs too, placing a kiss on top of Jaskier's hair. The band croons the familiar melody of Oasis' Don't Look Back in Anger. Jaskier hums along as Geralt sways them back and forth.

"You know, this isn't exactly the best song to dance to." Geralt whispers against Jaskier's ear. 

Jaskier chuckles lightly, "well, yeah, but it's special because it's the first song we ever listened to together. What a coincidence, huh?" He says sweetly, looking up at Geralt with nothing but love in his eyes.

"What a coincidence indeed" Geralt tells Jaskier. They continue swaying against the music, off beat at times, and Jaskier is giggling and Geralt's heart is warm and filled with love and he thinks he's never felt like this before, and he's never gonna feel anything like this again. At least, not with anyone else.

"I am yours and you are mine," Geralt tells Jaskier. Jaskier looks up, staring unabashedly at Geralt's face. He places his hand against Geralt's chin, softly and gently like he was holding glass. 

"And that's all that matters." Jaskier finishes for him. 

Geralt lifts and then swings Jaskier around, and this startles a laugh out of Jaskier. He puts Jaskier down just as the band transitions to another song. He grasps Jaskier's face between his palms, tracing his thumb over Jaskier's cheeks. The warm orange glow from the lights frames Jaskier's face, and Geralt thinks that he could live in the moment forever. He thinks, amazingly, that if he had the chance to freeze that moment in time then he'd do it. 

Geralt knows that the overwhelming emotions he feels for Jaskier should scare him, should send him running in the opposite direction but it does not. The fear does not come. Instead, all he feels is a wild roaring in his chest, like a fire being fed with drywood. Like the ocean, unkempt and unbound and he thinks.

_Oh_.

He loves Jaskier. That's what this was. _Love_. 

“How did I get so lucky?” Geralt whispers, voice filled to the brim with his love for Jaskier, because this can't possibly be anything else but love. 

“Funny," Jaskier replies. "I was just thinking the same thing.”

Geralt presses a soft kiss against Jaskier's forehead, and they stand in silence for a while, just slowly swaying.

"I feel like I have known you forever." Jaskier tells him softly. "Why do I feel like I have known you forever, Geralt?"

Geralt holds him tighter against him. He has no answers for Jaskier, for like him he is also asking the same thing.

"I feel like I have touched you before. That I have kissed you before, held you before." Jaskier swallows roughly. He looks up at Geralt, his eyes gleaming with barely concealed adoration. "Like I have loved you before, over and over and over again."

"We could stay here forever." Geralt whispers back. "We can stay and never go back. We can get away for a while."

"My heart holds nothing but love for you, Geralt." Jaskier tells him. "And I can't explain why but it feels so right."

"I have never felt like this before." Geralt tells him.

"Me neither. But then you came along--"

"--and everything fell into place." Geralt finishes. He presses another kiss against Jaskier's forehead. "I know. I can feel it."

"I wake up, everyday, and I love you more and more." Jaskier tells him. "Does this feel okay to you? Is this okay? It doesn't make sense, doesn't it?"

Geralt grunts. "Who the fuck cares about sense? This feels right. You, are right."

When he was younger and angrier and full of hatred for the world, Marie would sit him aside and tell him that someday, someone out there would be able to reign in the emotions inside of him. That someday, he would feel love too, not just anger and resentment. She had told him that he'd find the person who would fit the missing pieces of his heart perfectly. 

He hadn't believed her at the time, but now he thinks that he should have.

Jaskier smiles againt Geralt's chest. Still swaying to the music. He looks up, and all he sees is Geralt. 

Their lips meet in between. The stars explode beneath their shut eyelids. 

At that moment, they could have sworn that there’s nothing else in the world. Nothing but them. Jaskier and Geralt. Geralt and Jaskier. Just the two of them, side by side, like strings in the tapestry of Fate and Destiny and everything else in the seams.

**Author's Note:**

> SO IF U HAVENT NOTICED, the characters do not yet know that they are all reincarnated versions of the original timeline. They do, however, get the feeling that they all knew each other before, hence them being drawn towards the other. It'll all make sense as we go along.


End file.
